


In Some Other Existence

by Kicon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Canon Character of Color, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, M/M, Male Friendship, Prompt Fic, Romance, Slice of Life, Smut, The Golden Trio Era, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kicon/pseuds/Kicon
Summary: Various Dean/Seamus drabbles from my tumblr. Some are fluffy, some are nsfw (hence the M-rating), some are in-universe, some are AU. You can send me prompts and reblog these on my tumblr: kiconwrites





	1. Postbellum, one

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous: Deamus prompt Its the night of the end of the war both boys end up in the end hogwarts bathroom both consider themselves very straight (esp. Seamus) but they start talking about how much they missed each other etc... which leads to dean pressing seamus against the bathroom wall-and cannot keep from moaning not matter how much he tries and in shock at how good it feels and how good dean is at this ( you can take liberty obviously but the NC-17 is the better hehe *runs away hides in shame*)
> 
> Originally posted Jan 1, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/107071880496/deamus-prompt-its-the-night-of-the-end-of-the-war)

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Dean stepped over the fallen door and walked into the bathroom, following the sound of the cursing. He paused when he saw Seamus standing at a sink, scrubbing furiously at his hands. The Irishman's clothes were torn and ragged, and nearly every inch of him was covered in soot.

"Shay?" Dean said slowly.

Seamus looked up at him, his blue eyes bright spots on his blackened face. His expression crumpled and he went back to washing his hands.

"Shay - "

"I…I can't get this bloody  _blood_  off," Seamus growled out. "It's - I can't - "

Dean walked over and shut the sink off. Seamus glared up at him, but Dean could see through the false anger, could see the pain and misery behind it.

"Let me help you," Dean said softly.

He tore off the rest of his sleeve and dabbed it in the water remaining in the basin. Then he took one of Seamus' trembling hands and began wiping at the dried blood and soot.

Seamus' breathing was ragged, shaking with barely restrained emotion. His whole body was trembling. His nose was flared and his lips were pursed.

"It's not me blood," Seamus whispered. "I don' know whose it is."

"It's going to be okay," Dean said, not looking up. "It's all - "

"Ye don't  _know that!_ " Seamus shouted, wrenching his hand away from Dean. He paced in a few angry circles before stopping and holding his finger in Dean's hurt face.

"Ye don't know  _anything_!" he shouted. "Ye don't know a  _single_  bloody thing! Ye don't know what I've been through!"

"You're right, I'm sorry - "

"While ye were off hiding in the woods, I was here," Seamus yelled, tears leaving tracks on his dirty cheeks.

"Hiding in the woods?" Dean repeated, brows furrowed. "You think I was on some simple camping trip? I was running for my life while you got to sleep in a nice bed every night!"

" _I was here_ ," Seamus continued, "protectin' the students. I was here, bein' tortured by the Carrows. I was here, without ye."

"If I could've been here I would've."

"I…I missed ye."

Seamus' voice cracked. They'd been taking steps toward each other until they were practically chest to chest, Seamus' head tilted up so he could meet Dean's dark eyes.

Dean raised his hand to Seamus' familiar face, fingers brushing over the soot-stained skin. There was a scar running from Seamus' temple down under his eye that hadn't been there before. A sudden rage filled Dean, and he laid his hand over the scar to hide it, like he could pretend it wasn't there. Seamus closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Dean's heart leapt unexpectedly in a way it hadn't since he'd been with Ginny.

"I had no idea if ye were dead or alive," Seamus whispered, reaching up and closing his hand over Dean's. "I took over yer bed in the dorm."

"Shay, I thought about you every day," Dean whispered back. "I miss…I missed - "

Seamus suddenly stretched up on his toes and mashed his mouth against Dean's. Half a moment had passed when Dean finally understood what was happening, but by then Seamus had stepped away.

"Sorry," Seamus muttered, Dean's hand falling away from his face. "I dunno what - "

Dean stepped forward and crowed into Seamus' space, pushing him up against a wall. He put his hands on either side of Seamus' face, and Seamus' wide eyes stared up at him. He leaned down and kissed Seamus again, and was startled at how good it felt.

"No, we can't - " Seamus said, turning his head to the side. "It's wrong."

"It's not and we can," Dean replied, wondering where this was coming from.

Seamus opened his mouth to protest and Dean, not allowing himself to second guess this, used the opportunity to kiss Seamus again, this time pressing his tongue into his friend's open mouth. Seamus let out a stilted moan, his hands clutching at Dean's shoulders. Dean wrapped a strong arm around Seamus' waist and shoved a leg between Seamus', pulling him up so they could be at a better angle.

"Oh, Godric," Seamus breathed when Dean pulled away to catch his breath. "We're a mess."

Dean laughed a bit, then looked into Seamus' eyes. "I…I think I've been wanting to do that for a very long time."

Seamus bit his lip, then swallowed. He set his jaw in determination. "Then what're ye waitin' fer?"

"Nothing," Dean said as he leaned down again.

_Continued in the next chapter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, friends! I decided to upload all of the deamus drabbles and fic prompts that I've posted on tumblr to and AO3! Prepare for various scenes: some are fluffy, some are nsfw, some are in-universe, some are AU, some silly, some hot, et cetera
> 
> You can read all of these on my [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/), where you can follow me for other drabbles and updates on my writing
> 
> ~Kicon
> 
> PS. If you've read _Before I Knew_ and/or _This Is Where_ and you're wondering if I have a thing for Lang Leav's poetry, the answer is yes. She's kind of a muse for me


	2. Postbellum, two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: hey I am the bathroom deamus prompter(? lol) It was SO GOOD wow seriously I bow to you seriously I know your awesome writer but wow awesome I just loved it I am buzzing ! haha - (I am ignoring that part of my brain that needs it to continue cause if I think about to much I will crave it loool) but yeah better than I thought possible INCREDIBLE
> 
> Anonymous: hey there I just read your bathroom deamus fic I am the original prompt person but still but can my prompt be for more (joking !but Im really not haha) it was so good and potentially exponentially hot -it needs to be one shot or something cause too good and I am itching for more haha sorry if this bothers in anyway
> 
> Originally posted Jan 30, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/109619993901/hey-i-am-the-bathroom-deamus-prompter-lol-it)

Dean kissed Seamus with a kind of frenzied fervor and Seamus started to slip down the wall where he was pinned, so Dean wrapped an arm tightly around the Irishman's waist and hoisted him up so he was sitting on one of the nearby sink basins. They were at a nearly equal height now.

Seamus' brain was clouded and his vision was starry, so he tipped his head back against the mirror in an effort to catch his breath. All oxygen was expelled from his lungs, however, when Dean kissed along Seamus' jaw down to his neck.

Dean tugged roughly on Seamus' tie to loosen it as he mouthed at Seamus' collarbone, feeling incredibly grateful that in their seven years at Hogwarts Seamus had never learned to button his shirt completely up.

"Oh, Godric…" Seamus breathed, embarrassed at how needy he sounded yet too far gone to really care.

He leaned forward and nibbled at Dean's ear, caused a stunted groan to resound out of his best friend. Seamus got a thrill of pleasure from that and used one of his legs to bring Dean's hips forward against his. Dean gasped at the contact, hot breath rushing against Seamus' neck, and Seamus felt his chest swell with pride for being able to get such reactions from him.

With their hips pressed flush together now, Seamus could feel the hard line of Dean's dick through his pants, and there was no denying his own erection. A kind of panic started to rise in him as he wondered what exactly it was that they were doing and what it meant, but just then Dean's hands wandered under Seamus' shirt and all such thoughts flew from his mind.

Dean rocked against Seamus as they kissed, and it occurred to Dean how right this felt. He could feel a tenseness in Seamus' shoulders that meant he was nervous, but hell he was nervous too. But this, whatever it was, felt great. He loved the feel of Seamus' lips moving against his. It was so different from when he'd been with Ginny - making out was always something of a competition with them, and Dean always lost. With Seamus, they were both exploring. Seamus' mouth tasted like blood and soot, but also like ginger, and holding him like this was strange and familiar at the same time.

As Dean's hands roamed up Seamus' back from under the Irishman's tattered shirt, Seamus' hands found themselves gripping Dean's hips, with his fingers creeping past the hem of Dean's jeans. Seamus pulled his mouth away from Dean's and rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder, panting slightly.

"This okay?" he asked huskily, fingers pulling slightly on the button of Dean's pants.

Dean's throat felt thick and he nodded dumbly, then pressed kisses to the side of Seamus' face.

Seamus' hands shook slightly as he opened the button and slid the zipper down. He reached in and wrapped his hand around Dean, squeezing roughly. In an effort to not think about how he had his best friend's dick in his hand, Seamus instead focused on the breathy noises Dean was making.

Seamus used his free hand to tilt Dean's face toward his, their eyes meeting for a long moment before Seamus leaned forward and shoved his tongue down Dean's throat, palm working at Dean's erection. Dean moaned in Seamus' mouth, which felt good, and one of Dean's hands found Seamus' dick, which felt  _really_  good.

Dean's hands started working at Seamus' pants, so Seamus pushed Dean's boxers aside and pulled experimentally on Dean's cock. Dean groaned and pulled his mouth away to suck on Seamus' neck again, eliciting groans from Seamus.

"You like that?" Dean asked, licking up the side of Seamus' neck.

Seamus twisted his wrist in answer and Dean grumbled a laugh as he pulled Seamus' dick out. Seamus started quivering, his hand tightening around Dean's cock. His other arm slid around Dean's shoulders, fingers clawed into Dean's shirt like he was hanging on for dear life.

Neither of them had ever done this before, so it was messy and sloppy and sometimes not pleasant as they jerked each other off, and they sometimes bumped elbows or knuckles in their clumsiness, but it was new and exciting at the same time. And things got better once Dean stepped closer and wrapped his hand around both of them, their two cocks sliding together. Seamus had forgotten all discretion, his moans echoing around the bathroom, but Dean didn't mind. He enjoyed Seamus' noises, and attacked that spot on Seamus' collarbone whenever he wanted more.

They didn't last much longer after that, with Seamus cumming first and spurting all over their already ruined clothes. Seamus reached down and jerked Dean fervently until Dean came too, rubbing him through the whole stars-inducing orgasm.

Seamus' hand fell away and the realization of what they'd done came rushing over him. They'd just essentially had sex. Them. Dean and Seamus. Sex. They were both boys, let alone best friends, and now…

Now what?

A lump found itself in Seamus' throat and he was very aware of Dean's hands on Seamus' waist.

"That was…" Dean whispered after a few moments.

"Different," Seamus answered, suddenly refusing to meet Dean's eyes.

He moved Dean out of the way and hopped off of the sink basin, rubbing his ass a bit since he hadn't realized until then just how uncomfortable that was. He zipped his pants back up and grabbed some paper towels, wiping as much of the mess away as possible. He heard Dean doing the same behind him.

"Shay - "

"Don't."

Dean frowned. "Don't what?"

"I don't want to talk about this, I don't," Seamus said, biting his lip. "I want to forget it."

"No way."

"Excuse me?"

"I told you," Dean said, taking a step forward, but stopping when Seamus shuffled back. "I think I've wanted to do that for a while now, and I think you have too."

Seamus looked away and Dean sighed.

"Listen, I don't know what this means," he said. "And yeah, we're both blokes, but what does that matter?"

"Dean, we just had sex in a school bathroom!" Seamus shouted, blushing at the word sex. "Right after a bloody war! There's dead bodies downstairs! We have other shit to worry about right now."

"Yeah, okay, so our timing isn't that great, but we'll handle it," Dean said. "We'll handle it together, but not if we don't talk about this."

"I - "

"I care about you, Shay," Dean told him, moving toward him cautiously. "Apparently in a different way that I thought, but still."

Seamus looked up at Dean. They were inches apart now. "I'm scared, Dean."

"I am too," Dean said, leaning down slowly. "But can't we just see where this takes us? Don't we owe that to ourselves?"

Without waiting for a response, Dean slotted their mouths together, putting his arms around Seamus' torso. This kiss was different from the others. There was less fever and more emotion. It was tender and slow, almost as if they hadn't spent the last twenty minutes with their faces attached.

Seamus felt the panic knot up inside his chest but decided to ignore it and let himself enjoy this moment. He put his hands on Dean's neck and opened his mouth, and felt that maybe this thing would be easier to figure out than he'd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should give an update here on what I've been doing, since people that don't follow me on tumblr probably think I might've died. You can go to my tumblr for the full explanation of why I haven't been posting things since 2014, but I'll let you know what I'm working on right now!
> 
> First, I'm working on a trans!Seamus fic that I'm almost done with. Then I'll be working on All I've Yet To Be, a Neville-centered story in the Through Their Eyes verse. Then I'll be working on Now I Know, the sequel to BIK. At least, that's the plan. My plans haven't been working out lately, but I'm excited to get back into writing again!
> 
> ~Ki


	3. Enemies With Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Deamus AU where Dean and Seanus hate each other. One day as they're fighting in the common room after Harry, Ron, and Neville had left, one suddenly kisses the other because of the huge amount of sexual tension and proceed to make out
> 
> Originally posted Feb 1, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/109835104761/deamus-au-where-dean-and-seanus-hate-each-other)
> 
> Warning for some slight internalized homophobia

Dean considered himself to be a fairly reasonable and tolerant person. He let people mind their own business and didn't try to police others. He never judged people's choices and he mostly kept to himself.

There was, however, one exception to his tolerance, and that exception was one Seamus Finnigan.

He couldn't remember why or exactly how their animosity began, but what he did know was that Seamus was a crude, arrogant, and purely aggravating person to be around. He got along with his other dormmates just fine, but when it came to Seamus, Dean had no patience.

Dean would be happy to ignore Seamus for the rest of his Hogwarts years, then graduate and pretend he'd never had to deal with having the urchin in his life, but the issue there was that Seamus was really attractive.

Baby blue eyes, sandy hair that fell perfectly, a spattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose - he was a perfect subject, and Dean, being an artist, naturally had the urge to capture beautiful images. As such, Dean has a ton of secret drawings of Seamus hidden among his things. A sketch of Seamus post-explosion with smoking eyebrows, a watercolor depicting Seamus sitting in a pool of sunlight, Seamus laughing by -

"What's yer problem?" Seamus snapped from where he was sitting at a table in the common room, his textbooks spread out in front of him.

Dean looked back down at his Charms book, realizing that he'd been staring. "Nothing."

Seamus snorted and returned to studying, a scowl on his beautiful face.

All of the fifth year Gryffindors (minus Neville, who'd locked himself in the greenhouses all weekend) were gathered in the common room studying for their O.W.L.s, which would begin tomorrow. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were quizzing each other in a corner, but it had mostly dissolved into Hermione frantically lecturing the boys and fretting about how she should've studied more. Parvati and Lavender had fallen asleep curled around each other in an armchair, with a Divination book starting to slip out of Parvati's hand. Seamus occupied a table on the far side of the common room, and Dean was on a bench on the other side, although he wasn't so much studying as unconsciously sketching Seamus on the pages of his Charms book.

_THUD!_

The heavy Divination book finally fell out of Parvati's hand, startling everyone in the common room. The girlfriends almost fell out of the armchair in fright, Seamus yelped, Hermione cut off her explanation of the complicated nature of dragon blood, Harry and Ron stopped dozing off, and Dean's hand jerked so there was now a long dark line across his page.

"What time's…?" Lavender mumbled as Parvati gently maneuvered the two of them out of the chair and picked up the book.

Ron glanced at his watch. "Almost two."

"We're going to bed," Parvati said firmly, putting an arm around Lavender's waist and guiding her toward the girls' staircase. "See you lot in the morning."

"I'm going to bed as well," Harry said, picking his books up.

"But we haven't even covered - " Hermione started shrilly.

"Come on, 'Mione, you've been studying since first year. You'll be great," Ron said around a yawn. "Me 'n Harry are already a lost cause, but thanks for the help."

Hermione sighed, her brows knit with anxiety, but then she started to help her friends pack up their books and notes. As they turned to head for the staircases, they eyed Seamus and Dean warily.

"You two coming up?" Ron asked.

Dean and Seamus made eye contact across the common room. The air was tense and silent as they watched each other.

"I'll stay here a bit longer," Dean replied. "Just another chapter to go over."

Harry nodded and turned to Seamus, who narrowed his eyes for a moment and then nodded curtly before bending back over his books.

"Right, well, night," Harry said.

The trio turned and went up their respective staircases, their footsteps receding until silence descended with the clicks of doors closing at the top of the stairs. Dean swallowed thickly, acutely aware of Seamus' presence at the other side of the common room. He was surprised Seamus elected to stay in the common room; they were almost never alone together.

His chest started to feel tight, and he started to get mad at himself. He wasn't even sure why he stayed: he'd been over all his Charms material, there was nothing left to study. He looked at the small sketch of Seamus' he'd been doing, and sighed inwardly. Recently, he hadn't been able to get the Irishman out of his head. And it wasn't because Seamus was annoying him or anything. Rather, Dean just had images of him stuck in his head, like the way Seamus always looked surprised when something blew up, or the sound of his laughter. It was becoming a problem.

Dean had accepted the fact that he was attracted to both guys and girls a while back, but what he couldn't get used to was the fact that he was pretty sure he was attracted to Seamus Finnigan.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap_

Dean looked up and saw Seamus tapping his quill on the table and chewing his lip with a frustrated expression. He waited for the tapping to stop, but it continued, the only sound in the otherwise silent common room.

He cleared his throat and Seamus looked up. "Could you perhaps not?" he asked.

Seamus rolled his eyes, but his hand stilled and the tapping stopped. Dean closed his Charms book and began to shuffle through his notes to look for something else to study.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap_

"Really?" Dean asked, frowning deeply.

"Shove off, Thomas," Seamus snapped.

"You got a problem, mate?"

Seamus sighed in aggravation. "Yeah, actually, I do," he said, slamming his quill down on the table hard enough to make his ink well jump as he rose from the floor. "It's ye."

Dean tensed as Seamus approached, his stride strong and purposeful. Seamus may be almost a foot shorter than Dean, but he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. None of their tiffs had ever come to blows before, but the look on Seamus' face as he came over made him want to reach for his wand.

Seamus was a few feet from him now. Dean prepared himself for all sorts of things. Seamus could attack him physically, but Dean was fairly good at fighting, and he had the size advantage. Seamus might jinx him, but Dean saw Seamus' wand lying on the table, so he was safe from that. Seamus could berate him for something Dean might've done to offend him, but Dean couldn't think of -

Seamus grabbed Dean's face and kissed him full on the mouth.

Well. That was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome.

Dean surged up to return the kiss, one arm wrapping around Seamus' waist and the other around his back. With Dean sitting and Seamus standing, the angle was different than in all his imaginations, but the sensation was even better.

"Wait, what's - " Dean said, pulling back as he tried to make sense of this.

"Shut up," Seamus replied, going back in.

He licked along Dean's lower lip and Dean opened for him. Seamus took control instantly. It was all Dean could do to try to remember to breathe.

"But you hate me," Dean said dumbly.

"Yes. No," Seamus replied, looking cross.

Dean blinked. "What?"

Seamus rolled his eyes and straddled Dean's lap, rubbing their hips together, causing Dean to groan aloud and put a hand on the small of Seamus' back.

"Shh," Seamus said, kissing Dean again. "Don't want ter wake everyone up."

Dean took the initiative this time and leaned in to kiss Seamus, knotting the fingers of his other hand in the dirty blonde hair. Seamus moaned lightly, which sent heart surging down to Dean's pants. Dean sucked on Seamus' lower lip before pulling away again.

"What's happening here?" he asked, trying to get himself to focus despite Seamus' big red lips and blown pupils.

"Well, Dean, when two blokes - " Seamus started.

"Oh piss off," Dean said with a slight growl, grabbing Seamus and pulling him down to the bench so Dean was over him. "Why the sudden snogging? You haven't been able to look at me for more than five seconds since first year."

"Well at first it's cause I thought ye were stuck up," Seamus answered. "Then it's cause ye're so bloody attractive."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Shut up," Seamus snapped, using his legs to bring Dean's hips against his again. They both groaned this time.

"So what was the problem?" Dean asked, leaning on his elbows so their faces were closer.

Seamus blushed slightly. "Ye're a bloke. I thought it was wrong. I hated ye for making me attracted to ye."

"Then what changed?" Dean asked, lightly kissing Seamus' neck, eliciting a shiver.

"Parvati and Lavender got together," Seamus replied. "Nobody cared about two girls bein' a couple, so I figured…"

Dean laughed against Seamus' collarbone. "Are we a couple now?"

"Don't get ahead of yerself," Seamus said, grabbing Dean's face so he could look at him. "Ye still piss me off."

Dean laughed again and met Seamus' lips. He realized that this was really the first conversation he'd ever had with Seamus. And as they kissed, he started to wonder what exactly it was that had made him dislike Seamus in the first place.

"What about ye?" Seamus asked. "Ye hated me, too. Why so enthusiastic?"

"Same problem: you're too attractive," Dean replied, causing Seamus to grin. "But you still annoy me. Although, if our interactions continue being like this, I might just warm up to you."

Seamus rolled his eyes and pulled Dean down again.

HPHPHP

"Ten galleons, Longbottom," Parvati said as she and Lavender walked up to him. "Each."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Didn't you see the hickeys on Dean's neck?" Lavender asked, giggling.

Neville's jaw dropped in disbelief. "No, really?"

Parvati grinned wickedly. "Really."

Neville grumbled to himself as he trudged up the stairs to get his money. More money would pass hands the next day when Dean and Seamus started to hold hands in public.

HPHPHP

"Ye're so needy," Seamus complained a couple months later, rubbing his thumbs into Dean's back.

"Shut up, Finnigan," Dean said with a laugh, grabbing Seamus' hands and pulling them forward so Seamus was flush against his back.

"I still hate ye," Seamus whined.

"Sure, sure," Dean replied, turning his head and meeting Seamus' lips.


	4. Bed Wetter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Deamus prompt: Seamus begins wetting the bed in fourth year and Dean finds out and promises not to tell and they cuddle together in Seamus' bed anyway because Dean couldn't care less about his adorable boyfriend's unusually small bladder, even if he'll tease him slightly (and discreetly) followed by a kiss.
> 
> Originally posted May 26, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/119943948796/deamus-prompt-seamus-begins-wetting-the-bed-in)

The bed was damp and sticky, and Seamus' pants clung to his legs. Shame pooled in his belly as his face heated and he leaped out of bed, thankful that none of his other dormmates were awake. He changed his trousers and began to quickly strip the sheets.

It was the fourth time it had happened this week, and the twenty-first time in two months. He burned with embarrassment just thinking about it. He felt like a two year old who hadn't been potty trained yet.

With a resigned sigh, he scooped up the soiled sheets and quietly left the the dormitory, headed down to the kitchens to fetch a house elf so he could get new sheets. The house elves were always as helpful and cheerful as ever, but he couldn't stand the pity in their bulbous eyes.

One of the benefits to this whole ordeal was that he'd gotten really good at sneaking around the castle at night. He liked to think he was better than Harry, Ron, and Hermione, especially since he hadn't been caught yet.

"Seamus?"

" _Christ Almighty!_ " Seamus shrieked, jumping from fright and hitting the stone wall. He turned to see Dean standing behind him, his friend's worried face dimly lit from his wand tip.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

Seamus' heart dropped into his stomach. "I…" But there was no way to explain this, no way to cover it up with a lie.

"Shay, whatever it is, I don't care," Dean said quickly. "I want to be here for you, Shay, and I'm not going to judge you."

Seamus closed his eyes and chewed his lower lip. Godric, what had he done to deserve a friend like Dean? Dean was always so kind and understanding, but this…

"I've been wettin' the bed," Seamus mumbled.

"Yeah?" Dean said softly.

Seamus nodded a bit. "Yeah."

"For how long?"

"A couple months."

"Do you know what's caused it?"

"Ah, well…me parents are gettin' divorced. That might've somethin' ter do with it."

The silence was heavy, and Seamus kept his eyes squeezed shut. He hadn't told Dean about that. He was too embarrassed. In fact, he'd never really told Dean about his family. Dean had talked plenty about his, about his mom and step-dad and three little sisters, but Seamus never wanted to talk about his cause there was nothing much to say.

He heard Dean move and could feel him getting closer. Tears smarted in his eyes, wondering what Dean was going to do or say, when a gentle hand touched his shoulder and his eyes flew open.

"Thank you for telling me," Dean said softly.

Seamus gaped. "But…but I  _didn't_ \- "

"But you did just now," Dean interrupted. "You don't always need to tell me things right when they happen. Sometimes we need time to process or come to terms. Of course I want you to tell me things, but only when you're ready."

Seamus shook his head a little. He  _really_  didn't deserve Dean.

"I'll walk with you to the house elves, if you wanna tell me what's going on," Dean offered.

"Sure," Seamus answered.

And they walked down to the kitchens together as Seamus explained that his dad found out that he was gay (Seamus came out to Dean last year) and basically disowned Seamus, causing a rift between his mother and father, which resulted in the current divorce.

"…So recently they've both just been sendin' me letters, arguin' about rights and child support and whatnot," Seamus finished as they left the kitchens, knowing that Seamus' bed would be made and fitted with new sheets by the time they got back to the dormitory. The house elves really were miracle workers.

"I'm so sorry, Shay," Dean said. "You know, I've heard that stress can cause bed wetting. And that feeling shame or embarrassment only makes it more stressful."

Shay bowed his head. "Yeah, well, I could've told ye that much, mate."

Dean put his arm around Seamus' shoulders. "Do you get nightmares."

"Not  _nightmares_ , but… 'm not sleepin' well," Seamus admitted.

Dean nodded slowly as they crawled through the portrait hole and climbed up the stairs to their dormitory. Harry, Ron, and Neville were still fast asleep. Seamus walked slowly toward his freshly made bed and pulled back the covers, his face pinched tight with anxiety. He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and looked as if he were psyching himself up to go to sleep.

"Hey," Dean said softly, walking over. He pulled up the covers on the other side of Seamus' bed. Seamus stared at him. "Mind if we share?"

Seamus looked horrified. "But what if - "

"I don't care," Dean said.

"Well  _I_  bloody well do," Seamus hissed. He wasn't bothered by sharing a bed with Dean, they'd done that a lot in their first and second years, but the thought of wetting the bed while sharing with Dean…

"We think it's caused by stress, right?" Dean said. "So if you sleep with someone, if someone's there with you, you might feel more relaxed. Another person's presence might have a good effect."

Seamus still looked unsure. "But - "

"Shay."

They had a small staring contest, and then Seamus conceded. He was never really able to deny Dean. So they crawled into the small bed, Seamus' back pressed against Dean's chest. Dean wrapped his arms around Seamus' torso and Seamus tried not to blush as he rested his hands on top of Dean's hands, feeling Dean's breath on the back of his neck.

"Relax," Dean whispered. "You're still tense."

"Yeah, cause I'm sharin' a bed with ye and I'm a wetter," Seamus hissed.

Dean's head shifted and suddenly Seamus felt a pair of lips on his neck and his insides melted in a different way.

"Just go to bed," Dean murmured. "We'll talk in the morning."

Seamus' liquid insides turned to butterflies and a warm feeling erupted in his chest as Dean's arms squeezed him briefly.

The night passed without any more incident, and if Seamus and Dean started holding hands the next day, well, nobody was really surprised.


	5. Burnt Shirts and Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: May I prompt some more Deamus? :) Seamus somehow manages to set his last clean shirt (or other piece of clothing of your choice) on fire and has to borrow one from Dean, whose clothes are like ten sizes to big. How would his day go in such a ridiculously unpractical garment?
> 
> Originally posted May 26, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/119993447291/may-i-prompt-some-more-deamus-seamus-somehow)

He had to roll the sleeves five times and they were still too long. It went down to his knees, more like a dress than a shirt. The collar dipped down too low, making a tie impractical (not that Seamus wore the ties often; plus he'd burned nearly all of those too). He felt like he was drowning. And this was all because he'd burned up all his shirts.

Not to mention he'd almost caught this shirt on fire at least five times today; the bigger size apparently made for a higher fire hazard. It would've been more practical to ask Harry for a shirt, they were closer in size, but Dean insisted and Seamus hadn't been able to say no to him yet. Besides, his mam was sending him new shirts and they should arrive tomorrow. He just had to last one day.

"Oh, look!" a shrill voice cried. "Finnigan's wearing his boyfriend's shirt today!"

Seamus flinched at Pansy Parkinson's exclamation, and noticed her standing with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle across the courtyard. They all started leering and approaching slowly.

Godric, he didn't need this right now. McGonagall and several portraits had already criticized his sloppy appearance, the shirt kept getting caught on things, and he felt like a child in it. He didn't need the Slytherins' grief on top of it all.

"What happened, you mix up your shirts picking them up off the floor this morning?" Malfoy asked, sneering.

"Yeah, almost grabbed yer mum's shirt instead," Seamus snapped, "but that one was eight times bigger than this."

Crabbe and Goyle's jaws dropped and Pansy's eyes widened. Malfoy snarled and drew out his wand.

"You little - " he hissed.

"What's'a matter, Malfoy?" Seamus asked gleefully, reaching for his wand. "Ye make fun of e'ryone else's mums. Can't take what ye dish out?"

"You'll pay - "

"Problem?" Dean asked, appearing at Seamus' side.

Malfoy took a step back, startled by Dean. He curled his lip. "Your boyfriend needs to watch his mouth."

"I agree," Dean said simply, turning to smile down at Seamus. "Here, Malfoy, I'll do you a favor," he said, bending down and pressing his lips to Seamus'.

The Slytherins let out horrible groans and Seamus chuckled as he slide his hands around Dean's hips. When it became clear the couple weren't going to stop, the group stalked away. Dean and Seamus had figured out a few months ago when they started dating that the best way to get rid of Malfoy and his gang was just to make out in front of them, which was fine by them.

"Thomas! Finnigan!" McGonagall barked as she approached. "No displays of public affection!"

"Sorry professor," they chorused, grinning as their fingers interlaced at their sides.

McGonagall looked down her nose at Seamus, distastefully eyeing his oversized shirt. "Mr. Finnigan, you're sure your mother is sending you new shirts tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes, professor," he answered tiredly.

"Good. Well, go along," she said.

They chuckled and began walking together toward Gryffindor Tower.

"You know, I kind of like you in my shirt," Dean said.

"I feel like a child, I do," Seamus complained. "Why're ye so big?"

"You've never complained about that before."

Seamus' face flamed up and he stopped in his tracks, yanking Dean back with his hand when Dean kept walking. Dean laughed hard, kissing the top of Seamus' hand before tugging him along.

"You look like a leprechaun," he continued. "All we need to do is dye your hair red - "

"I've no idea where ye Muggles got yer idea of leprechauns - " Seamus started.

" - give you a green shirt - "

" - but it's completely - "

" - and a shamrock, and we're done."

" - inaccurate," Seamus finished, giving Dean a pinched look.

Dean glanced down at him and laughed again.

"I hate ye, ye know," Seamus said simply.

"Sure, sure," Dean replied, leaning down to kiss him again.


	6. Girlfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Ok, firstly I adore your works, like as soon as I finished I reread everything, and secondly I have this superindulgent prompt: You know how wearing your boyfriends stuff is a thing? I haven't seen that with girlfriends a lot yet, so how about Parvati one day just decides to wear Lavenders most obnoxiously Lavender bow, maybe even as her way of announcing a relationship? Please and thank you :)
> 
> Originally posted June 3, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/120673986971/ok-firstly-i-adore-your-works-like-as-soon-as-i).

"Shh," Parvati hissed, putting her hand over Lavender's mouth to stifle her moan.

"I can't help it," Lavender breathed when Parvati moved her hand to kiss her. She carded her fingers through Parvati's hair, leaving them to rest them on her girlfriend's shoulders. "If you want me to be quiet, then don't - " She gasped as Parvati licked the hollow of her throat. " - touch me there," she finished weakly.

Parvati smiled wickedly as she worked her way down Lavender's buttons. "But you make such pretty noises."

Lavender moaned again, leaning her head back against the wall.

They were crammed into a broom closet on the fourth floor, one that they knew Filch didn't use anymore. Ever since Parvati had confessed her feelings to Lavender a month ago and found out that Lavender felt the same way, they'd started dating in secret and taken to make out sessions in broom closets between classes or in the dorm when Hermione wasn't around, and cuddling in the common room late at night.

"Wish we didn't have to be quiet," Lavender murmured against Parvati's neck, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist.

"Do you want to go public?" Parvati asked.

Lavender sighed. "I don't know."

It wasn't that they were embarrassed of their relationship or anything, but they'd decided that they wanted to figure themselves out first without the whole school watching. Hogwarts wasn't homophobic as a whole, and many were actually very supportive and worked with Dumbledore to create safe LGBT spaces within the school, but because out LGBT students were still fairly rare, anyone who was became the center of the school's attention - especially if they were dating.

"You saw how everyone reacted when Davies and Zabini got together," Parvati reminded her. "Are you ready for that?"

"Maybe," Lavender replied softly.

Parvati paused, meeting Lavender's eyes in the darkness. Then she kissed Lavender with renewed fervor, pressing their bodies together. She slid her hand up Lavender's thigh so it rested on the girls hip. Lavender's legs trembled as she pulled Parvati's shirt out of the skirt. They mingled tongues and breath, pulling on hair and clothing, then -

Pleasant chimes sounded outside of the broom closet door.

"Shit!" Lavender exclaimed as she and Parvati sprang apart. They were late for Transfiguration.

Lavender hurriedly buttoned her shirt and adjusted her skirt, reaching blindly for her bow on the floor and quickly tied it into her hair. Parvati picked up her tie and threw it around her neck, then tucked herself back in. With ears pressed against the door, they waited for the steps in the hallway to fade before they burst out and ran for McGonagall's classroom.

They'd been expecting the stares when they ran into the classroom, but they hadn't been expecting the giggles and the shocked expressions. They turned to each other, and then realized what had happened.

Around Parvati's neck, in place of her tie, was Lavender's pink sequin bow, and Parvati's tie was around Lavender's head and tied as a bow. Not to mention their red lips and messy hair, and the fact that Lavender's shirt was misbuttoned and Parvati hadn't fully tucked hers in.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Ladies, please take a moment to compose yourselves, and next time make sure your extracurricular activities do not interfere with your schooling. Now, the art of vanishing spells…"

Even though McGonagall had resumed her lecture, most of the students were still staring at Lavender and Parvati, who were still staring at each other. Then Parvati smiled at her and shrugged, and Lavender reached out and they laced their fingers together as they walked out of the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild larvati drabble appeared! If you're wondering why it was Roger Davies and Blaise Zabini who were mentioned and not Dean and Seamus, it's because our idiots still had to figure their shit out haha <3
> 
> ~Ki


	7. Sunburst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: 19 and Deamus, please and thank you!  
> (19. "The paint's supposed to go where?")
> 
> Originally posted July 20, 2015, on 

Seamus glanced down at the address on the piece of paper in his hand and back up at the apartment building. This seemed to be the right place, and his heartbeat sped up a little as he walked up and buzzed apartment 14.

"Hello?" a voice said. Despite the grainy intercom, Seamus recognized the voice to be the same one he'd talked to on the phone after answering the ad. Apparently he was taking a photography course, and the final project was to have a photo shoot with a human model that also combined a medium of art that they're more comfortable with.

"Uh, yeah, it's Seamus?" he said awkwardly. "I answered yer ad."

"Oh! Great, yeah, come on up."

The door clicked and Seamus let himself inside, cursing his best friend Lavender with each step he took up the stairs. Maybe the guy didn't even want a model, maybe he just wanted new skin to add to his collection of human skins. Maybe he wanted to harvest Seamus' teeth. Maybe he wanted to steal Seamus' liver and feed it to his man-eating parakeet. Who knew?

The ad had been so vague too: "Artist seeking model for photo shoot, preferably male/flat-chested person. Must be comfortable with paint." Lavender had found it and dared him to do it, and since he owed her for accidentally setting her girlfriend Parvati's skirt on fire when they'd met last week, he complied.

Seamus made it up to apartment 14, took a breath, and knocked. The door opened and he was met with a wide expanse of chest, then looked up and met a pair of sparkling brown eyes. Christ, the guy had to be at least a foot taller than him.

"My, you're short," the guy - Dean, he remembered - said in greeting.

"Sorry?" Seamus said.

"It's not a problem. Come in, come in," he said, stepping aside.

Seamus shuffled into the apartment, which was small but surprisingly open. Actually, the living room was open. Everything else was crowded. The kitchen was overflowing with dishes and left out food. The door to the bedroom at the other end was open, and Seamus could barely see the bed. The couch was covered with stacks of canvases, and the end table held pots filled with brushes and other supplies. Artwork hung all over the walls.

The rest of the living room, however, was covered in a tarp and a canvas hung on the far wall, painted in a messy interpretation of the night sky, with dark blues and blacks and purples swirling around each other, speckled with stars. A camera stood on a tripod near the window.

Nervousness suddenly flooded Seamus and his mouth went dry.

"Um, listen, I, uh…'m not a model, I just answered yer ad on a dare. I - I - "

He turned around to see Dean holding a pair of loose orange pants out to him.

"What're those?" he asked nervously.

"Pants," Dean answered calmly, a crooked smile twitching at his lips. God he was gorgeous. "So if you're not a model, why'd you answer the ad?"

"Like I said, a dare."

"You could've backed out."

"Yeah, well, I set her girlfriend on fire last week, so…"

Dean laughed loudly, surprising him. "So you owed her?"

Seamus grinned. "Yeah, pretty much. Plus, she thought it'd get me laid."

He froze, eyes snapping down to the floor as heat flushed all over his face and down his neck. He couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud.

"Well, that can be taken care of later," Dean said finally.

Seamus looked up at him, eyes wide. Dean was watching him with an amused smile.

"So, shall we get started?" Dean asked, offering the pants again.

"I - ye still want me to be yer model?" he asked.

"Sure," Dean said, then gave Seamus a long, appraising look up and down his body. "I think you'll be great."

Seamus felt like he was on fire - which wouldn't be unusual around him - and he reached out with a clammy hand to take the pants.

"You can use the bathroom to change. No shoes or shirt, only the pants. I'll be out here," Dean told him.

Seamus nodded dumbly and turned around to enter the tiny bathroom. The mirror had tiny dried paint dots on it. Between the hygiene supplies and random charcoals and erasers there was zero space on the tiny counter aside from the sink, so Seamus set his clothes on the toilet seat. He looked hard at himself in the mirror and tried to stop blushing, but that made him redder. So he messed his hair up a little, took a steadying breath, and then went back out.

"Amazing," Dean said when he saw him, eyes lighting up with excitement when he saw Seamus, which cause him to blush again.

Seamus rubbed his arms and smiled. "Now what?"

"So the project is called Sunburst," Dean explained as he picked up a couple small buckets of paint. "Here we have a night canvas, but you are going to be the sunburst, hence the pants. Your hair is actually perfect for this, too. Anyway, after I put the paint on you, we'll just take some pictures, kay?"

"Sure," he said, nodding. Then he paused. "Wait, the paint's s'posed to go  _where?_ "

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "On you. All over your chest, arms, back, some on your face, and maybe a bit in your hair, too."

 _Must be comfortable with paint_.

"Are you okay with that?" Dean asked. "It's all safe body paint and it washes out easily."

"Oh, um, yeah, I guess. Just never been painted on 's all."

"Well it's a bit cold and tickles some, but it's fun," Dean said. "So, we good?"

Seamus swallowed and nodded. "Sure, what the hell."

They moved over to the canvased floor and Seamus stood there awkwardly while Dean popped open a can of yellow paint. He dipped a wide fanned brush in and then held it up to Seamus' chest.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

Seamus nodded. Dean held his eye contact as he gently put the brush against Seamus' left collarbone and dragged it down across his chest. Seamus gasped and shivered a bit, goosebumps appearing on his arms.

Dean smiled and chuckled, breaking eye contact to pick up the paint can. He proceeded to lay huge streaks of yellow all over Seamus' body, glancing up at him every now and then. He moved along Seamus' arms and face, then around to his back. Dean stood so close to him that he could feel his breath on his bare skin, and honestly the goosebumps were only partially due to the paint and mostly due to the looks that Dean kept giving him.

After a while Dean set the yellow down and opened up a can of vivid orange, just a few shades darker than the pants. To Seamus' surprise, he dipped his fingers into it.

"This okay?" he asked, his voice low.

Seamus couldn't summon his ability to speak, so he just nodded. Then Dean pressed his hand on Seamus' lower back and pulled it around up over his hips, leaving streaks of orange in his wake. He repeated the process along his shoulders, arms, back. Fingers pushed and pulled all over his skin, feeling almost more intimate than sex.

Dean faced him again and danced his fingers along Seamus' jawline, then dragged them down his neck, eyes burning into Seamus'. Then he reached up and tugged his fingers through Seamus' hair, eliciting a groan from him. He cursed himself, thinking that Dean would make fun of him or that he'd made it weird, but Dean just gave him a sly grin and went to grab a red can.

Seamus felt a twinge of disappointment when Dean picked up a short smudging brush to paint the red on with. Dean started on his face, smudging red down from his right eyebrow, over his eyelid, across his nose to his left cheek. Then, to Seamus' pleasure, Dean used his fingers to smear it some. He repeated the process over Seamus' body, smudging out swirls and bursts, then using his fingers to smear them out the way he wanted, and deposited some red into Seamus' hair.

The last color was purple, and Dean used a thin brush for this. His fingers couldn't achieve the delicate lines and swirls he wanted. He painted long lines up over Seamus' hip, then a swirl over his chest, and more dots and lines on the right shoulder. He dipped the brush in and then flicked it, leaving tiny purple dots scattered across his skin. Then he drew a line extending down from Seamus' eye and ended in a swirl. Purple dusted the ends of Seamus' hair, and his lips were outlined in red and purple.

"The painting's done," Dean said huskily, then shook his head and cleared his throat. "Um, just, uh…stand in front of the canvas. I'll wash my hands."

Seamus nodded and walked over to the canvas as Dean retreated to the bathroom. He heard the sink turn on and wondered what in the hell was happening. The air had definitely been charged between them just now, and earlier, after Seamus had said Lavender wanted him to get laid, Dean was amused and maybe interested. And Dean had just had his hands  _all_  over him. The proof was in the paint.

He looked down at his paint covered hands and arms and laughed. Lavender would have a cow if she could see him. He considered getting his phone from his jeans pocket so he could snap a picture, then he laughed as a voice said,  _Ye're about to get a ton of pictures taken_.

"Okay," Dean said, emerging from the bathroom, and Seamus turned around to face him. "I know you've never modeled, but honestly the most important thing is to not half-ass it. If you're going to bend over, then bend over and mean it, y'know? Like I said, this is Sunburst, so I need energy. Intensity. Wildness. You get me?"

Seamus nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'll do me best."

Dean smiled. "Great. I'll give you tips and some poses, but it's mostly up to you."

"Aye aye, captain."

Dean laughed and raised the camera. "Action," he whispered.

For the first couple of minutes, Seamus felt like a complete fool. He over-analyzed every movement he made, every position he put himself in. Did his hand look weird like this, did he look awkward, was the paint flaking off? But Dean was patient with him, encouraging him when he made good poses, giving tips to make shots better, and Seamus started to feel more comfortable and confident with what he was doing.

The camera  _click click click-_ ed away, and Seamus loved it. It meant Dean's eyes were on him every second, zooming and analyzing and capturing. He moved his hand.  _Click._  He tilted his head.  _Click_. He arched his back.  _Click_.

How long had they been at this? Seamus couldn't tell. The minutes bled away with every click of the camera. He did still poses with his eyes radiating intensity, strong poses with his chin lifted high and jaw clenched. He did wild poses with his hands in his hair and his mouth wide open like he was screaming or laughing or both. He turned his back and stuck his arms straight above his head, fingers splayed wide. He looked over his shoulder and twisted his body.

"A few more, okay?" Dean said, looking at him with a kind of frenzied hunger. Seamus wasn't sure if it was due to himself or Dean's love of art, but he loved it either way. He hoped it was both, though.

"Sure," Seamus said with a grin, then turned his back on the camera. He turned his head to the right, bringing his left arm up above his head and tangling his fingers in his hair, and wrapping his right arm around his stomach so his fingers gripped his waist. He looked into the camera with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  _Click click click._

He faced forward and pulled on the skin of his forehead with his left hand, and dragged his fingers over his stomach with the right. He twisted his body, letting his teeth bare like he was something wild just barely contained inside a body.  _Click click click_.

Final shot. He closed his eyes and extended his arms out from his sides, fingers straining to touch oblivion. He tiled his head back and let his mouth fall open, a soft groan escaping his lips as he did so. Seamus inhaled and tried to let the energy flow through him, filling his small body until he was larger than life. Every nerve in his body felt alive and electric.  _Click click cl - thump._

Seamus opened his eyes in confusion only to see Dean striding toward him, only inches away. Automatically, he raised his already extended arms so they wrapped around Dean's shoulders as Dean put one arm around his waist and the other under his arms, lifting him as their mouths collided. He felt Dean's short curly hair under his fingers, his tongue next to his. This was the most passionate thing he'd ever experienced; it was art and love and sex all rolled into one fantastic kiss.

Dean set him down and kissed him again before pulling away and resting his forehead against Seamus'.

"You taste like paint," Dean whispered with a laugh.

"Ye taste like heaven," Seamus whispered back.

"Also you're really short."

"Well ye're too tall," Seamus replied, going up on his tiptoes to kiss him again.

Dean smiled against his lips and pulled away, then looked down at him and swallowed. "So, um, I got everything that I wanted," he said, gesturing to the camera, which he'd deposited on the only open spot on the couch.

" _Everything_?" Seamus pressed, stepping into Dean's space again.

"Ah, um, wuh…" Dean stuttered, biting his lip. Seamus could see flecks of paint on his skin and he smiled. "You can use the shower if you want."

Seamus smiled to himself; seemed like he was the confident one now. So he walked away from Dean toward the bathroom, then turned around when he was halfway there and looked at Dean expectantly.

"Aren't ye going to help?" Seamus asked, playing with the hem of the pants, then tugging one side down to reveal the top of his thigh. Thank God Dean had bought stretchy pants.

Dean stared, his mouth agape, and then met Seamus' challenging stare.

"Well?" Seamus prompted, slowly slipping the pants up to where they belonged as he took a step backward.

"Y-Yes, yeah, yes, I can do that," Dean said, a grin on his face and his long legs striding forward.

Seamus laughed and turned to run for the bathroom as Dean chased him, throwing off his own clothes as he went.


	8. Sunscreen - Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrowsace: Deamus prompt for you :) So it's a weekend toward the end of the school year and it's finally warming up outside so all the Gryffindor boys in Harry's dorm are going down to the lake to have a swim and enjoy the peaking summer but Seamus has got to put on a ton of sunscreen because that pale freckled Irish boy simply fries in the sun. And the poor thing has got these stubby little arms that can't reach everywhere on his back, and Dean, being the thoughtful mate that he is, remembers from all the summers they've spent together how bad Seamus can burn at any sign of sunshine if he's not completely covered up from head to toe in his sunblock. and normally Shay's mam will take on the job of lathering him up but she's not here, is she? so I guess I'll just step in and help my mate Seamus. And so basically it involves Dean innocently(?) giving Seamus an oily massage and Seamus desperately trying to not get extremely turned on by his best mate and the way his long, artistic fingers feel all over his back.
> 
> Originally posted July 21, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/124701099841/sparrowsace-deamus-prompt-for-you-so-its-a)

The fifth years blinked slowly as they walked out into the sunshine, having just finished the last of their O.W.L.'s. It had been so long since they'd been outdoors, and even longer since they hadn't been anywhere that wasn't the common room or the library with their faces shoved into books that they should've been reading all year.

Dean wasn't sure how it started, or who suggested it, but somehow they all found themselves running back to Gryffindor Tower to grab their things so they could go swimming in the Great Lake. They'd all gone mad with giddy, test-less joy.

A few minutes later, Dean was watching with amusement as Hermione, who was standing knee-deep in the freezing water, was yelling at Ron and Harry to stop splashing her; they insisted that it was a science experiment necessary to discover what her hair looked like wet. Lavender and Parvati were stretched out on towels in the grass a few feet away, soaking up the rare sunlight. Neville was wading through the shallows, happily poking his wand at the algae and plants. And Seamus -

He turned and laughed when he found Seamus cowering in the shade of a tree, trying to put sunscreen on himself.

Dean remembered last summer when he stayed with the Finnigans before and after the World Cup, and how Mrs. Finnigan wouldn't let Seamus take even a  _step_  outside without being slathered in sunscreen, and one day he found out why.

They'd sneaked out of the house early one morning so Seamus could show Dean the town without the hovering of his mam, and by the time they'd finished the ten minute walk to town, Seamus' shoulders were a bright red and Mrs. Finnigan had a fit when they got back.

"Oi, I think I the castle has a new ghost!" Dean called out.

The trio looked over and laughed right before Ron sneaked up and knocked Hermione over in the water. Seamus rolled his eyes.

"Ye gon' to keep laughing or are ye gon' to help?" Seamus asked, arms straining to reach his back.

Dean stifled another laugh; Seamus looked like a turtle struggling to get back on its feet, but his heart skipped a beat at the word  _help_. He'd be lying if he said that he hadn't developed a crush on his best friend, and the idea of rubbing sunscreen into Seamus' back had him really nervous. Still, if nobody helped him then the poor guy would burn, and there'd be no living with him for a few weeks. (Seamus was incredibly irritable when he was burnt.)

"Coming," Dean said, jogging briefly over to the tree Seamus was taking shelter under.

"Here," Seamus said, handing him the bottle of sunscreen before turning around.

Dean took a steadying breath and tried to be nonchalant as he squeezed a bit of sunscreen onto his fingers. Experimentally, he wiped it off on the tops of Seamus' shoulders and stared.

Seamus turned his head. "Ye have to rub it in, mate."

"I-I know," Dean said, trying to make excuses. "I was just marveling at how translucent you are is all."

He laughed and turned his head back. "Shut up and keep going."

Dean swallowed and used the palm of his hand to rub the sunscreen into Seamus' shoulders, feeling the soft skin under his hand. He squeezed more out and tucked the bottle up under his arm, using both hands to rub it into Seamus' back. His heart beat a little faster when he got to Seamus' lower back.

"Quite being so hesitant," Seamus told him. "Just rub it in."

 _Just rub it in_. Oh Godric.

Dean nodded to himself and really started pressing with his hands. He could feel Seamus' wiry muscles under the skin as he pushed and pulled his fingers and palms over his friend's back. He made his way down to the lower back, moving his hands back and forth over the pale skin. Then he dipped his thumbs under the hem of Seamus' swim shorts, thinking up the excuse,  _Well, what if the shorts shift? Wouldn't want to be negligent._ but Seamus didn't comment, so he kept going.

He squeezed more sunscreen and put his hands on Seamus' hips, pushing them forward so he was half-hugging Seamus, then pulled them back and worked up Seamus' sides. His fingers pressed over Seamus' ribs and he heard Seamus let out a tiny sigh and watched as goosebumps rose on his arms.

With more sunscreen Dean rubbed his shoulders again, fingers pushing up his neck and into the hair at the base of his neck, then out and down his arms. Dean was pretty sure Seamus had already gotten his arms, but he did want to stop touching Seamus, and Seamus wasn't stopping him, so he kept going.

They were back to chest now, with Seamus half-leaning back into him and Dean with his chin next to Seamus' ear, breath washing over his shoulder as he moved his hands up and down his arms. Seamus turned his head slightly to look up at him and Dean's hands skittered over the slick skin as he noticed how wide the Irishman's pupils were.

"Say, Lavender, how much sunscreen do white people really need?" Parvati asked loudly.

Lavender propped herself up on her elbows and looked over at Dean and Seamus, who'd taken two quick steps away from each other.

"Not that much, that's for sure," Lavender said with a laugh. "Although Seamus is  _really_  pale."

"Shut up," Seamus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh, looks like you missed your face," Parvati said. "Your cheeks are already red!"

Seamus let out a loud groan and grabbed Dean's hand began dragging him over to the lake. Dean laughed and abandoned the sunscreen bottle in the grass, using his long legs to catch up, but even when they were side by side Seamus didn't let go of his hand.

They walked up to the water's edge and then Seamus looked up at him, cheeks red and eyes questioning. Dean smiled and interlaced their fingers, and then Ron and Harry blasted them with jets of water from their wands and they fell laughing into the lake.


	9. Sunscreen - Seamus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The previous prompt but from Seamus' perspective since that's how Sparrowsace imagined it (also I think we can all see that I'm a sucker for Dean putting his hands on Seamus, examples one and two being chapters seven and eight)
> 
> Originally posted July 23, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/124856879211/this-drabble-from-seamus-point-of-view-for)

Seamus stood grumpily under the shade of the tree as he slapped sunscreen on his chest. There was just no way he could take the chance of getting sunburnt, first of all because Hermione gave a speech about skin cancer every time she saw someone sunburnt, and also because he was pretty sure his mam would find out somehow and either write him a howler or appear at the school herself.

He squished some more of the hated substance onto his hand and then tried reaching his back, straining with his pointy elbows sticking into the air.

"Oi, I think I the castle has a new ghost!" he heard Dean call.

Seamus scowled at Dean. To be fair, Seamus was incredibly pale. Being in the sun somehow made his skin look even paler, and he practically glowed when he stood in the sunshine. He heard the trio laughing and then heard a splash and a shriek, meaning that Ron and Harry had succeeded in getting Hermione's hair wet.

"Ye gon' to keep laughing or are ye gon' to help?" Seamus asked him, using one arm to try to force the other farther down his back, then realized what he'd just asked and what the result would be if Dean complied.

He blushed at the thought of Dean's hands on his back, but didn't have much time to think about it since Dean was now jogging over to him.

"Here," Seamus mumbled, turning around so Dean wouldn't see his blush.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting, and he heard Dean flip the cap of the bottle open. Then, he felt Dean's fingers swipe some onto his shoulders, and then…nothing? Was Dean embarrassed to have to touch Seamus' back? Was this too intimate for them or something?

Seamus turned his head to look at Dean, but what he saw wasn't disgust or discomfort, but nervousness.

"Ye have to rub it in, mate," Seamus said teasingly.

"I-I know. I was just marveling at how translucent you are is all," Dean retorted, but Seamus could see through him. He was definitely nervous.

Still, Seamus laughed and turned his head back. "Shut up and keep going."

Dean used the palms of his hands spread it over Seamus' shoulders, then squeezed more out and went over Seamus' back, but he was still being nervous about it. He wasn't so much rubbing it in as he was just brushing it over his body.

Seamus felt Dean's hands still as they approached his lower back, and despite the butterflies emerging in his stomach, he said, "Quite being so hesitant. Just rub it in."

He waited, wondering if Dean would actually do it or if he'd pass the job on to Lavender or Parvati. But then he felt Dean's hands press into his back and Seamus' breath caught in his throat. He felt Dean's fingers - his long, thin artist's fingers - press and pull across his skin. He'd seen Dean's fingers in action before, holding quills as he sketched, finger painting on a canvas, smudging lines in a drawing, and he wondered if Dean was subconsciously pressing designs into Seamus' back as his fingers traveled over his skin.

Dean was working on his lower back now, and he suppressed a gasp as Dean's thumbs dipped under the hem of his swim shorts and rubbed along the skin there. Dean's hands then disappeared, then reappeared on Seamus' hips. They dragged forward across the skin, tickling his belly some, and then they were in a half-embrace and Seamus' heart was beating out of his chest.

He'd realized his feelings for Dean at the Quidditch World Cup last year, when, after Ireland won, his first instinct was to grab Dean's face and kiss the bloody hell out of him. Needless to say, he resisted and simply  _hugged_ the bloody hell out of Dean instead, but that left him with a pretty clear indication of where his true feelings lie.

But he'd always been doubtful of whether Dean could ever feel the same. Dean talked about how gorgeous Fleur was, or how Parvati and Padma were the prettiest girls in their year. He'd expressed some interest in Ginny once, but that never came to fruition. But now, with Dean's hands roaming up his sides, pressing into the gaps between his ribs, Seamus was pretty confident Dean felt the same - or at least  _could_  in the future.

Dean was now rubbing sunscreen into his shoulders again, and even though he'd now gotten everywhere that Seamus hadn't been able to reach, he didn't tell Dean to stop. He didn't ever want to have Dean stop touching him like this. Dean's fingers traveled up Seamus' neck and tickled the hairs at the base of his neck, then stroked down his arms.

If things continued like this much longer, Seamus would be sporting a stiffy. So he tried to think of things like McGonagall's underwear or the giant squid, but he couldn't focus on anything other than Dean's hands on his skin.

Dean stepped closer and Seamus leaned back a little so his shoulders were resting on Dean's chest. He felt Dean's breath on his shoulder as his hands went up and down Seamus' arms. There wasn't even any sunscreen on them now, he was just touching him.

Seamus turned his head a bit, looking into Dean's eyes. He could kiss him, Seamus thought. He could kiss Dean right here right now, and maybe Dean would reciprocate, maybe they would hold hands as they went into the lake, maybe they would spend the summer -

"Say, Lavender, how much sunscreen do white people really need?" Parvati's voice cut through the air, slicing their perfect bubble as they hurriedly took a couple steps apart, Dean's hands falling from Seamus' shoulders.

Lavender looked over and laughed, and Seamus wondered yet again why he was friends with her, the traitor. "Not that much, that's for sure. Although Seamus is  _really_  pale."

"Shut up," he mumbled, rubbing his neck as he felt his face heat up.

"Oh, looks like you missed your face," Parvati exclaimed. "Your cheeks are already red!"

Seamus groaned with frustration - he'd been  _so close_  to Dean and they had to ruin it - and instinctively grabbed Dean's hand and began dragging him over to the lake. Dean caught up to his side in just a few strides, but as an experiment Seamus didn't let go of his hand, and Dean didn't bother to pull away. Seamus felt a little hope bloom in his chest.

They stopped at the edge of the water, still hand in hand, and Seamus turned his head to look up at Dean. The sun was just behind Dean's head, so it was a little hard to look at him, but it illuminated his curly hair and made his eyes sparkle. Seamus really hoped that Dean felt the same way as he did. He didn't know what he would do if Dean rejected him, if these feelings ruined their friendship.

But then Dean smiled at him and shifted his hands so their fingers were now interlaced, and Seamus felt almost like crying. And just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, to ask if this was real, Ron and Harry let out great roars of excitement and suddenly they were being pelted with water blasts and knocked over into the water.

Oh well. He'd talk to Dean later. Now was the time for revenge.


	10. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Hey there, I hope this is not bother but I have had this story idea for –it's a deamus, set the same night the war ended. Now both Dean and Seamus both considered themselves straight and never "consciously" ever thought they were attracted to each other but after everything thing that happened that day they both end up in the boys bathroom, and they discuss the different trails they had to face that year/how they much they missed each other etc and somehow they end up kissing. there is a lot hesitation and uncertainty but they can't seem to stop as undiscovered feelings of love and desire suddenly surfacewhich cumulates to a slow, slightly awkward but very passionate Dean making love to Seamus against the bathroom wall (face to face Seamus legs on either side, possible wrapped round deans waist) and to both of their own amazement they find incredible with Seamus not being able to keep his voice quiet I hope it doesn't creep you out *embarrassed* Thanks!
> 
> Originally posted Aug 16, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/126836680731/hey-there-i-hope-this-is-not-bother-but-i-have)

Dean and Seamus found themselves in the second floor boys' bathroom, away from the suffocating crowds down in the Great Hall. As soon as it was over - as soon as Voldemort's body hit the floor with a  _thud_  none of them would ever forget - the swarms of people had gotten to be too much. They needed to get away from the grievers and celebrators, away from the hundreds of people crying for hundreds of different reasons.

And so they had retreated upstairs, over and around the wreckage of the castle, and ended up in a bathroom with the excuse that they were going to try to clean themselves up. Instead, they were just standing in front of the sink basins, with inches between them that felt like miles as they stared at the ground.

Seamus could suddenly feel all that was there between them, everything that had gone unsaid for a whole year. They'd never been separated for that long before, never gone through anything that tough before without each other to lean on. He didn't even know where to begin.

The year away weighed heavily on Dean. He could see the effect that the past year'd had on Seamus; scars lined his face and arms, and there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. It made Dean wonder if Seamus could see the past year on his face as well. Seeing Seamus when he came into the Room of Requirement - being reunited with him - it felt like something out of a dream, mostly because he had dreamed of that moment so often. But now the dream was over and it was time to face reality.

Seamus set his hands on either side of the basin in front of him and sighed heavily, then looked over at Dean. He opened his mouth to say something, but came up short. He'd always been the talkative one, but now, when words seemed most important, he had none to offer.

"Were you lonely?" Dean asked, surprising him. "While I was gone?"

"No, not exactly," Seamus replied. "Nev and I banded together, watching over the younger students. Was good to have him around, but I missed ye every day, Dean. Took to sleepin' in yer bed cause it still smelled a bit like ye." He looked down, embarrassed, and Dean smiled. "Faded after a week, but it still felt nice. Like I was close to ye somehow."

"I'm sorry I couldn't write, couldn't say goodbye," Dean said hurriedly, feeling the guilt in his chest like a sore. "There was no time, once the Ministry - and I didn't want you in danger - but - "

Seamus waved a hand. "I'm glad you didn't. It was torture, mind ye, but any letter could've been traced, and we might not be standin' here now if ye had."

Dean nodded. That was probably true, but he still felt terrible for just disappearing and leaving his best friend in the dark.

"Were  _ye_  lonely?" Seamus asked.

"For a while," Dean replied. "Had no idea what to do or where to go, and I'm not great at Apparition. I kept to forests for a while, then I met up with - " He stopped, remembering Ted Tonks and his dead, glassy eyes.

Seamus' hands slipped off the basin and he stepped closer to Dean. "I remember listening to Potterwatch, hearing about the group ye were with," he murmured.

"They had families, wives, kids. Ted's daughter married Lupin earlier this year, you know. They're dead now too, I saw them in the Hall," Dean said shakily, remembering the shock of seeing the body of his favorite professor on the cold stone floor. "They should've -  _I_ should've - " he said shakily, tears rising in his eyes.

"Don't ye  _dare_  say that ye should've died instead!" Seamus said hotly, gripping the sleeve of Dean's sweater. " _Don't!_  Ye have a family too, or did ye forget? Yer sisters, yer mum, yer dad?!  _Me?!_ "

Dean stared at Seamus in shock. Seamus' face was twisted up with anger and misery at the thought of Dean dying in Ted and Dirk's places.

"People die in wars, Dean, and we can't help it! There's no rhyme or reason, but ye can't start wishing ye'd died instead of others cause it'll jus' tear ye apart," Seamus said fiercely. "I'm glad ye're alive. I feel terribly for their families, for everyone, but I'm happy that I still have ye, I'd give anything to - if ye weren't - "

Seamus choked on his words and the tears that had been waiting on the brim finally started to fall. He groaned and threw himself into Dean, burying his face in Dean's chest and wrapping his arms tightly around him. It was only when he hugged Seamus back and leaned his cheek on Seamus' head that Dean realized he was crying too.

"Most days," Seamus mumbled, voice muffled, "the only thing that kept me going was thinkin' of ye alive, of ye comin' back."

Dean swallowed and curled his fingers around Seamus' shoulder and waist. "I promised myself I'd get back to you, that I'd see you again. I couldn't break that promise."

They held each other for several moments longer, then slowly pulled apart to look at each other. Seamus saw the gauntness in Dean's face, the tired lines around his eyes. He knew there was more that Dean hadn't told him yet, just like he hadn't told Dean everything. He wondered if they would ever know everything that had happened in that missing year, or if some things were better left in the past.

Dean stared down at Seamus and felt something warm spreading throughout his chest, and he felt like he would suffocate with the immensity of it. All that he knew or cared about in that moment was Seamus: Seamus in his arms and under his hands and next to him. And then he found himself leaning forward and pressing their mouths together gently.

It should've felt weird, he thought, kissing his -  _male_  - best friend, but all Dean felt was a fluttering in his chest and an overwhelming sense of rightness. And then he felt Seamus' mouth moving slowly against his.

They'd kissed once before, three years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. After Ireland had been announced as the winners, Dean and Seamus went crazy with excitement and kissed each other wildly. It lasted maybe thirty seconds, and they were a bit shocked after it, but nobody around seemed to notice so they just moved on. They both internally blamed over excitement, adrenaline, and the bit of firewhiskey Mrs. Finnigan had given them, and thus never talked about it.

They pulled away moments later and stared at each other. Seamus' cheeks were flushed and his heart felt like it was about to explode in his chest, and for some unknown reason all he wanted was Dean's lips against his again. Dean seemed to read his mind, because the next moment they were kissing again.

Seamus moved his hands up to wrap around Dean's neck in hopes of getting closer to Dean. This was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He and Lavender had kissed once at the Yule Ball, but that had been stiff and unsatisfactory, and the two of them had amicably decided to separate for the rest of the evening.

But kissing  _Dean_? This was a sensation unlike anything he'd ever had in his life. His heart was pounding in his throat as he kissed Dean more fervently, feeling a hunger erupt in the pit of his stomach. He thought of the past year without Dean - without Dean's drawings and quiet presence and soft smiles - and felt his heart ache with heavy emotion. And for the first time he wondered if he cared about his best friend more than what was normal.

Dean wrapped one arm firmly around Seamus' waist, pressing them closer together, and brought one hand up to the back of his head, working his fingers through Seamus' scruffy hair. He dared to lick at Seamus' lips, and was pleased when Seamus opened his mouth to him. Kissing had never been like this with Ginny. There'd never been so much emotion, so much…well,  _love_.

They explored each other, fingers digging in to skin with their desperation, until they broke apart a moment later. Dean saw so many emotions bubbling up in Seamus' eyes, and Dean suspected Seamus saw the same in his. He was about to open his mouth, to voice what he'd been thinking, when Seamus moved his hands from Dean's neck and trailed them down his chest to rest on his hips.

"Don't stop," Seamus breathed, looking wantonly up at him.

Well. Dean wasn't going to say no to that.

He crushed Seamus' mouth against his and they took a couple stumbling steps backwards until Seamus' back found the wall. All questioning hesitancy was now lost as they nipped and sucked and licked at each other's lips. Dean broke away to kiss down Seamus' neck and Seamus gasped out words in Gaelic, fingers grasping at Dean's sweater.

After a minute of lavishing attention on the spot to the right of the nape of Seamus' neck, the Irishman was now tearing wildly at Dean's sweater, so he ripped it up over his head and deposited it on the floor at his feet. But Seamus wasn't done: he pushed up Dean's tattered shirt and mouthed slowly across Dean's stomach and chest, his tongue mapping out the angles and planes of Dean's torso.

Dean, impatient, pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and cradled Seamus' face with his hands, bringing their lips back together. Seamus' palms traveled over Dean's back as he rolled his body against Dean's, and for a second he thought about the implications of what they were doing, and he wondered what the aftermath would be. But at that thought, little panicky pains started flaring up in him, so he decided not to think about it. In fact, he decided not to think at all, which was quite easy to do with how Dean's mouth made his brain go fuzzy.

Dean realized that his pants were quite strained now as he unbuttoned Seamus' shirt. But as he stepped forward and put a leg between Seamus', kissing a few freckles on Seamus' shoulder, he realized that Seamus had an erection as well. He pulled back, mind muddled, and wondered how they should proceed from there. He didn't want to stop - he wanted to go further - but he didn't know what Seamus wanted.

He felt Seamus' fingers dancing at the hem of his jeans and looked into his best friend's questioning eyes.

Seamus swallowed. "C-Can I?" he mumbled, cheeks red.

Dean nodded dumbly and watched as Seamus fumbled with the button and zipper, awkwardly pushing the jeans away from Dean's hips and letting them fall. Seamus paused, and Dean wondered if this was all about to self-destruct, when Seamus gripped his shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss. As their tongues slid together, Dean felt one of Seamus' hands move from his shoulder and then the hand was slipping into Dean's boxers and -

"Godric," Dean moaned, breaking away from Seamus to rest his head on Seamus' shoulder.

Seamus pulled experimentally on Dean's dick and Dean winced a bit, then Seamus spit on his hand and went back, and it felt much better. Dean kissed Seamus' neck as Seamus experimented with his movements: faster, slower, twisting, pulling. Dean whined into Seamus' neck, and then felt very exposed when he realized he was standing in his underwear while Seamus still had his pants and shirt on (although the shirt was half falling off).

Dean put his hands on Seamus' hips, about to ask, when Seamus cut him off with a strangled, "Please." He paused, looking into Seamus' eyes to be sure, and found himself amazed at the love and desire in his best friend's expression.

Without waiting a moment longer, Dean pulled off Seamus' belt and undid his pants, shoving them down to his knees. Seamus had slowed his own hand in anticipation, but Dean didn't notice. Heart hammering, Dean licked his hand, pushed Seamus' boxers away, and took Seamus into his hand.

Seamus breathed out something in Gaelic, and his hips stuttered as Dean worked him over. This felt so good, so good, so  _good_. He couldn't imagine why they'd never done this before, but of course he knew the answer. Dean lifted his hand to his mouth get it wet again, but Seamus grabbed it with his free hand. Surprising himself, Seamus maintained eye contact with Dean as he licked across Dean's palm and sucked on the tips of a couple fingers. He grinned at the moan Dean let out and let his hand go.

Dean stared hotly at him, then captured his mouth as his hand wrapped around Seamus' erection again. They moaned into each other's mouths, hands gripping and pulling feverishly. Seamus' free hand was now scratching across Dean's shoulders, and Dean's hand was cupped around the back of Seamus' head.

Suddenly Dean felt dissatisfied - not that this wasn't incredibly and mind-blowing - but he wanted  _more._ He considered dropping to his knees, but he wasn't sure either of them could handle that at the moment, but he thought of something else.

"Can I try something?" he asked.

Seamus nodded, stopping his hand and leaning back against the wall, looking the very picture of sin with his shirt slipping off his shoulders, his kiss-marked skin, and his darkened seductive eyes.

Dean kicked a foot free of his jeans and pushed Seamus' pants down around his ankles, then stepped forward, slotting one leg between Seamus'. Then he rolled his hips and their erections bumped together and they both let out loud moans of pleasure. Dean reached down to hold them in one hand and began rocking his hips back and forth.

Seamus' head was spinning as he babbled nonsense in Gaelic. The thought crossed his mind that he should be quiet, but the second floor was so destroyed that he couldn't imagine anyone coming up here. His hips jerked wildly, out of his control, and he dug his fingers into Dean's shoulders. He tried to lift a leg to hitch it over Dean's hips, but his feet were stuck in his jeans. He tried again but couldn't and so he started laughing.

Dean stopped rocking, suddenly self-conscious. "What?" he asked. "Why're you - "

"It's not ye," Seamus said, sniggering. "It's me foot, it's stuck."

Dean looked down and saw Seamus helplessly raising his foot. He rolled his eyes and kissed the stupid grin on Seamus' face, then reached down and freed Seamus' feet from the offending pants.

"Better?" he asked.

Seamus grinned. "Much," he said, twining his arms around Dean's neck and lifting one leg up so it rested against Dean. Dean grinned and used one hand to hold Seamus' leg up, fingers pressing against his thigh, and went back to rolling their hips against each other.

They began kissing again, and Seamus felt like he'd never been so happy in his life. All these emotions came bubbling up inside him, emotions he hadn't known he'd been suppressing, and he realized that he'd been wanting this for so long now.

Dean sucked on Seamus' lower lip, then wrapped one arm around Seamus' waist and hoisted him up, forcing Seamus to wrap his legs around Dean. Seamus gripped at Dean's shoulders as he braced his back against the wall. Their hips were rolling in tandem now, each movement bringing waves of pleasure. Once he felt steady enough, Seamus reached down and wrapped a hand around their dicks.

The air was heady around them and they were both seeing stars. Dean placed frantic kisses along Seamus' neck and face and Seamus scratched his fingers along Dean's scalp. Dean moaned loudly, and then his orgasm swept over him, Seamus following suit a few seconds later. Their hips stuttered together as the stars cleared from their minds, and Dean gently set Seamus back on the ground.

They stood there, panting against each other's shoulders, for several long moments before they decided they needed to clean up. It was silent but not awkward as they cleaned up their bodies and put their clothes back on.

"Well," Seamus said after a bit, "that was unexpected."

Dean chuckled. "In a way. But I also think it's been a long time coming, yeah?"

Seamus' eyes softened and he nodded.

There was a pause, and Dean wanted nothing more than to step up and take Seamus' hand, but he wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do.

"So where do we go from here?" Seamus asked. "What'd that mean to ye? Cause I know what it meant to me, and I've never experienced…that was so…I don't - "

Dean crossed the distance with a single stride and put his hand on the side of Seamus' face, kissing him slowly and tenderly. He tried to pour all his emotions into that kiss, because he'd never been all that good with words. That was why he preferred art; a picture's worth a thousand words after all. But as their mouths slid apart, he knew he still had to say something.

"That, just now, that meant the world to me," Dean told him, voice low and sincere. " _You_ mean the world to me. And, if you'd like, I'd like to explore this further. All I know is I…I can't be without you, Shay. Not again." He whispered the last words, and they sounded like a promise.

"Can't be without ye either," Seamus mumbled, closing his eyes and curling his fingers into the front of Dean's sweater.

Dean smiled and pressed his lips to his friend's forehead.

"As for where do we go, I imagine we should probably get back to the Great Hall," he said. "Can't hide up here forever."

"We could try," Seamus said stubbornly, but he smiled.

So they decided to walk downstairs hand in hand, come what may, and face the broken world together.


	11. 4AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mybookfantasies made a post saying they wanted deamus fic, so deamus fic is what they got. Be careful about shouting into the void, sometimes it shouts back - or writes fanfiction ;)
> 
> Originally posted Sept 6, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/128525417796/mybookfantasies-you-know-what-i-want-deamus)

Dean found Seamus hours later still sitting in front of the fire in the common room, eyes staring out at nothing. The whole castle had this muggy atmosphere about it, with everyone still reeling from the attack on the castle and Dumbledore's death just earlier that night.

"Shay," Dean said softly, walking over and putting his hand on Seamus' shoulder.

Seamus turned to look at him, eyes empty.

"It's four in the morning," Dean said. "You've got to get  _some_  sleep. Come on, now."

He gently pulled Seamus out of the chair and put an arm across his friend's shoulder's and walked him up the boys' staircase. Neville's soft snores greeted them as they came in the door, and they wordlessly climbed into Dean's bed together.

Dean pressed his face into the top of Seamus' head, inhaling the familiar scent of coconut that came from Seamus' favorite shampoo. Seamus' fingers curled into Dean's shirt and he sighed heavily.

"I…I feel like everythin's going to get real bad now," Seamus whispered, his breath washing against Dean's neck.

"I think you're right," Dean whispered back.

"People are gonna die." His hands tightened in Dean's shirt. "If - "

"Seamus."

He sighed. "Do ye know what ye mean to me, Dean?"

Dean half-considered pulling away so he could look Seamus in the eyes, but he didn't. Partially because he didn't think Seamus' nerve would stand, and he knew his own wouldn't either, but mostly because he felt it would be too much for them after all that had transpired.

So instead he tightened the arm that was around Seamus' torso and pushed his other hand into Seamus' hair, holding him close.

He pressed his lips to Seamus' forehead and whispered, "Not half as much as you mean to me."


	12. In Sickness and In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Could you write a Deamus thing where one of them (or both) is sick and the sick one is being kind of pathetic and the other is taking care of him and stuff?
> 
> Originally posted Sept 14, 2015, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/129098642801/could-you-write-a-deamus-thing-where-one-of-them)

"Dean? Are ye up yet?" Seamus asked as he took a bite of his toast, flattening out today's copy of the  _Daily Prophet_  on the kitchen counter.

He heard a small grunt and frowned to himself, setting the toast down and walking over to their bedroom, where he found Dean still curled in a lump on the bed.

"Dean?" he said softly, approaching their bed.

A long-fingered hand peeked out from under the blankets and Seamus smiled as he took it into his. The blankets lifted slightly and Dean's brown eyes peered up at him.

"Are ye sick?" Seamus asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do ye need some Pepperup Potion? I could run down to - "

Dean groaned. "No, no, I hate that stuff. I think it's just a 24 hour flu, I should be good tomorrow."

"Ye're just gonna stay here?" Seamus asked with a frown.

His boyfriend nodded. "Yeah, just gonna rest. Will you send Twit to the studio, tell them I'm not coming in?"

"Sure, sure," Seamus said, kissing Dean's forehead before walking out into the living room where their owl sat on his perch.

He pulled a scrap of parchment off the pile on the counter and started to scribble a note to the portrait studio Dean owned on Diagon Alley, but just as he was about to tie it to Twit's leg, he paused.

Sure, Dean had probably dealt with colds and flus plenty when he was growing up in the Muggle world, but Seamus felt bad leaving him here by himself. What if he couldn't get out of bed? Or what if it wasn't over in a day?

So he scribbled another note, this one to the Three Broomsticks, and then sent Twit out the window. Then he put some toast on a plate, poured a cup of tea from the pot on the stove, and went into the bedroom.

"Sit up, time for breakfast," Seamus announced.

Dean groaned and grumbled, but he sat up obligingly. His curly hair was flat on one side and his eyes were groggy as he stared at Seamus in confusion.

"What?" He glanced at the clock on the wall. "You're gonna be late for work."

"Nah, I'm spendin' the day with ye." Seamus set the toast and tea on the bedside table before climbing up.

"Shay, really, I'm fine," Dean said, smiling softly at him. "You might even catch my cold."

Seamus scooted forward and rested his head on Dean's chest. "If I do, I won't be a prat by refusing Pepperup Potion. 'Sides, I'd worry about you if I went to work."

Dean smiled again and put his fingers through Seamus' hair. "I love you, Shay. You know that, right?"

Seamus lifted his head and grinned at him. "'Course."


	13. Human Transfiguration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Since you're accepting prompts, how about one were Seamus and Dean switch heights for a day? I saw this short post where Seamus interrupts Dean's class to switch heights, then skis out the door laughing. I need to see it in fanfic form now. So please, fulfill my wishes.
> 
> Originally posted July 30, 2017, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/163620777791/since-youre-accepting-prompts-how-about-one-were)

"Transfiguring a human body is the most difficult form of transfiguration," McGonagall lectured. "This is why I save it for my sixth year students. As such, I remind you all to take great care when practicing, unless you would prefer to take the risk of becoming stuck in a botched form."

She nodded her head at the images on the wall, the tip of her hat pointing at where the projector had been flipping through various horrifying images of human transfiguration gone wrong.

"This is the one kind of magic I will ask you to not practice on your own until I deem it safe for you. Now, find your partners and begin. Remember to discuss the change you'll be making to each other, visualize clearly, and articulate your vision."

Seamus turned to Dean with a smile. "So, what does yer dream bloke look like?"

"I'm looking at him right now," Dean replied suavely.

Seamus laughed. "I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

"Alright, well, how about something outrageous?" he suggested. "Give me green skin or something."

"McGonagall said to stick to simple things," Dean said. "Eye color, hair texture."

"Scared ye'll get me stuck with green skin forever?" Seamus teased.

"Hmm, then I could say I was dating Martian Manhunter," Dean mused.

Seamus looked at him with confusion. "That a Muggle thing?"

"Ah, yeah, I'll explain later," Dean said with a laugh.

An explosion of giggles occurred to their left, and they turned to see Hermione lengthening and shortening Ron's nose like an overactive Pinocchio. She'd also turned Harry's hair flat and platinum like Draco's; it was actually quite a disturbing sight.

"Miss Granger, you may practice outside of the classroom," McGonagall told her.

"As if we're surprised," Seamus said.

Dean grinned at him. "Okay, um…make me short."

Seamus goggled at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, I want to see things from your point of view," Dean said with a laugh.

Seamus rolled his eyes and then closed them, concentrating on making Dean short. He imagined the two of them side by side, the same height. Dean with a squatter torso, shorter arms, their heads at the same level.

" _Maleocorpus!_ " he commanded, trying to remain focused on the image of Dean in his mind. But the more he focused on Dean, the more he thought about how much he liked Dean as he was - lean legs, wiry arms…

"Uh, Shay?"

Seamus refocused and saw that he'd succeeded in making Dean's torso shorter - but everything else was the same. His arms went past his knees, and his hips were by his elbows.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind," Dean told him.

"Uh, Prof - "

McGonagall materialized in a second and with a swish of her wand Dean was back to his normal self.

"Remember to focus, Mr. Finnigan," she said sternly. "And perhaps try something a bit simpler."

Dean twisted his torso about, making his spine pop, then grabbed his wand and looked at Seamus with a glint in his eyes.

"So, green skin, was it?"

HPHPHP

That evening, Seamus was doubled over his transfiguration book, trying to focus and make sense of the method behind human transfiguration. Transfiguration was a scientific type of magic, with equations and variables that a wizard had to figure out and adapt to. Seamus just wasn't equipped for that. Still, he'd made it to the N.E.W.T. level, and he felt a sudden need to prove himself.

"Are you still studying?" Dean asked, looking up from his sketchbook.

"Yeah," Seamus replied. "I think I understand now. C'mere."

"What? No."

"Why not?"

"You're going to do something to me, and McGonagall hasn't given you permission yet!" Dean said.

Seamus frowned. "Ye don't trust me."

"That's right, I don't."

"How can we have a relationship without trust?" Seamus sighed dramatically, throwing himself down on the bed.

"You're ridiculous," Dean said.

Seamus sat up. "I'll do ye if ye do me."

"We already do that, Shay," he replied with a salacious grin.

Seamus found himself blushing, then shook his head to clear it. "Come on, please? Ye can try to make me tall. Ye'll probably mess it up, and then it'll be revenge."

"Probably mess it up?" Dean repeated with narrowed eyes. "McGonagall said I might have it down by the end of the week. If anything I'd do better than you did."

"So prove it."

Dean wrestled with himself for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I see what you're trying to do."

But Seamus wasn't listening to him. He was concentrating on what a short Dean would look like.

"Shay? Are you hearing me? I - "

" _Maleocorpus!_ "

Suddenly Dean's limbs were disappearing into his now-baggy pajamas. Dean started to shriek, but then the shrinking stopped.

" _What in Merlin's saggy backside made you do that?!_ " Dean screamed.

"Oh, that's brilliant," Seamus said with a smile as he leaped off the bed. "Stand up! Let's compare."

Dean did stand up, but menacingly. He started to stoop over like he normally would and quickly realized he was talking at Seamus' stomach. He looked straight ahead, and there were Shay's baby blues.

"I kinda like ye like this," Seamus said. "Makes it easier to kiss ye."

He began to lean forward, but Dean put a sleeve-covered hand up to stop him.

"Nope, none for you," he said.

"What?!"

"You're not supposed to be doing this outside of the classroom, and I didn't agree to it!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm not talking to you the rest of the night, and then we're going to see McGonagall to set me right."

"I could prob - "

"Your success rate is 50/50 right now, so forgive me if I don't trust your ability," Dean snapped, clambering back into his bed and pulling the curtains shut.

Seamus sat back on the edge of his bed and looked at the textbook. He slammed it angrily and threw it off the bed.

HPHPHP

"I'm really not sure about this."

"Come on, look at me! He deserves it."

"But Professor Mc - "

"If he did it, certainly you can."

"Well, yes, but - oh, alright.  _Maleocorpus!_ "

Seamus realized what the whispering meant a second too late. He tried to scramble away from the spell, but he was too late. Suddenly there was a slight burn in his body, and his clothes were very tight. When the burning stopped, he realized his feet were hanging off of the bed.

"Oh, Hermione, you did it too well!" Dean groaned.

Seamus slowly stood up and looked down at the people beside him. Looked  _down_.

"I'm tall!" he exclaimed.

"You were supposed to just make his torso taller," Dean said.

Hermione surveyed her work with a pleased expression. "Well, I'm off to breakfast."

"Wait, put us back!"

"No, leave me be!" Seamus countered, stretching his arms above his head as well as he could in the tight, restrictive clothing.

"I don't feel comfortable reversing it," she said primly. "Speak to Professor McGonagall."

She strode out of the boys' dormitory without another word, her bushy hair bouncing as she walked.

Seamus turned to Dean, who pouted and looked away.

"So this is what it's like up here," he marveled. "Ye can see the tops of so many things!"

"I'm going to find McGonagall," Dean said, following after Hermione.

Seamus watched him leave and began to think that maybe, just maybe, transfiguring his boyfriend without consent wasn't the best thing to do.

Much to their chagrin, they quickly found out that McGonagall was away from school for the day. Dean tried to go to the Hospital Wing as a last resort, but Madam Pomfrey turned them away, saying that Detransfiguration is what they needed, not a potion.

"Well, come on, let's make the most of it!" Seamus said resting his arm around Dean's shoulders. He'd never been able to do that to anybody.

Dean shook his arm off. "Is that what it feels like? Merlin, I feel like a child."

"'S not so bad," Seamus replied. "Just wait till someone asks ye what the weather's like down there. That's annoying."

"I never realized how much more I could see from up there," Dean remarked. "D'you know what the top of anything looks like?"

"Har har," Seamus said dryly. "Ladders and levitation spells, mate."

Dean laughed. "The last time you tried a levitation spell on yourself you lit your shoes on fire."

Seamus smiled at the memory, then looked up - no, down - at his boyfriend.

"Listen, Dean, I'm sorry," Seamus said. "I shouldn't have done it. I could've messed up and hurt ye, maybe - "

"Maybe lit me on fire?" Dean teased, then sighed. "It's alright, Shay. I know you just wanted to do well. And you did a bang-up job, honestly. This is Hermione-level work."

Seamus brightened. "Ye really think so?"

"Merlin's beard, can you not hear me all the way up there?" Dean said with a wink.

Seamus rolled his eyes.

"Let's go to class, yeah?"

"Yeah." Seamus leaned down to kiss him, stooping at the waist.

Dean curled his fingers into Seamus' too-small-for-him robes to pull himself up, and they pressed their lips together.

"Godric, this angle hurts my neck," Dean mumbled.

"I got used to it," Seamus said. "But I never realized how far ye have to bend over!"

"It's worth it," Dean said, then kissed him again.

"Alright, alright, you'll be late for class!" Professor Sprout admonished as she shuffled by them, levitating numerous potted plants in front of her. "And no displays of affection in the corridors!"

"Sorry professor!" they shouted, then started walking, their hands fumbling as they tried to reach out for each other.

They were the last ones to arrive in the Charms classroom, and everybody immediately began giggling at the sight of them. Everyone except Hermione, that is, who rolled her eyes but still looked please at her work.

"Practicing our transfiguration, were we?" Professor Flitwick tittered.

"Sorry, professor, we were going to set it right before class, but McGonagall's away," Dean said.

"Well, you run along and see Dumbledore, and then come right back," Flitwick said.

"Dumbledore?" Seamus repeated.

Flitwick raised his eyebrows. "The Headmaster was Professor of Transfiguration before Professor McGonagall, you know."

They looked at each other in shock. "Of course!" they exclaimed before turning tail and sprinting down the corridor.

The two boys arrived at Dumbledore's office just as the elderly man had spoken the password to the stone gargoyle that guarded his office. He looked tired and grayer than usual, but he brightened with amusement upon seeing them.

"I see Professor McGonagall has begun teaching Human Transfiguration, has she?" he said.

"Please reverse it," Dean said, slightly out of breath. "We don't trust ourselves. Not even Hermione would do it."

"Well, if Miss Granger couldn't accomplish it, I'm flattered you turned to me," he said with a twinkle in his eye. He twitched his wand in their direction, and instantly their robes were fitting again. "Now, back to class."

They thanked him enormously, then began meandering back to the Charms classroom.

"I kinda miss bein' tall," Seamus sighed, looking at everything around him.

Dean stretched his arms above his head, then settled one of them around Seamus' shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

"Well, I think you're perfect just the way you are."


	14. A Special Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: More prompts. Because I have idea, but I also have writer's block, if that makes sense. How about a cute fluffy fic where Dean kisses Seamus to get him to stop talking?
> 
> Originally posted Aug 3, 2017, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/163768654371/more-prompts-because-i-have-idea-but-i-also-have)

"Dean, have ye swept the upstairs bathroom?" Seamus asked as he bustled around the living room of their house.

"Yes," Dean replied from where he sat on the sofa, watching his husband. "Although I don't know why our guest wouldn't just use the downstairs loo."

"Well have ye spot-checked all the silverware? And dusted the cobwebs?"

"We don't have cobwebs," Dean said.

"We could!"

Dean rolled his eyes as Seamus tried to arrange the throw pillows on the armchairs for the fifteenth time. Today was a very important day, the day that a Muggle social worker would come to interview them to see if they were fit to adopt a child.

"D'ye think the meringue is too much?" Seamus asked, worriedly eyeing the dessert that sat on the counter. "I should've had Lavender make a cherry pie instead. It's not too late to - "

"Lav's meringue is legendary," Dean said. "I'm sure Miss Gardener will love it."

"What if she's allergic?" Seamus exclaimed. "We should've made a little dessert plate so there's options. Should we have purchased some kids things so that she knows we're serious?" He began pacing. "We should have more photos on the mantle. She'll think we don't have friends. She'll think the child will grow up isolated and alone. Ye sealed the pantry, right? And yer wand is hidden? Oh, no, these drapes look all wrong!"

Sparks flew from Seamus' feet as he turned on his heel, raising his hands to try to transfigure the drapes into a different color when Dean jumped to his feet. He took his husband's hands in his.

"Shay, you need to calm down," Dean said.

"But what do we know about raisin' a kid?!" Seamus worried. "I'm an only kid, and me parents weren't an exemplary model. What if she says no? Could we Confund her into giving us a kid? No, that's wrong, we - "

Dean pressed his lips to Seamus' effectively cutting off the stream of words that were coming from his mouth.

"There's a child out there somewhere that's meant for us," Dean said. "It's all going to be okay. I know it."

Seamus leaned his forehead against Dean's chest and nodded slowly. Dean hugged him tightly just as the doorbell rang. They looked at each other with wide eyes, then clasped their hands together.

Dean smiled. "Well, here goes nothing."

(The interview went spectacularly, Seamus managed to not light anything on fire, and Miss Gardener raved over the meringue.)


	15. Too Much Cologne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batrisakapadiablog: I know this is really cliche and overdone: BUT An Amortentia Deamus fic? Maybe? What about an AU where Dean is a graffiti artist? I LOVE your work, by the way.
> 
> Originally posted Sept 26, 2017, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/165778169611/too-much-cologne)

"Can you believe we're brewing Amortentia today?" Lavender giggled as she looped arms with Seamus.

"'S just a stupid love potion," Seamus said. "It doesn't even create love, just crazy obsession."

"It may be stupid, but it is powerful," Parvati pointed out as they walked down to the dungeons.

"What do you think yours will smell like?" Dean asked.

"That's easy," Parvati said, pulling Lavender away from Seamus and twirling her around. "It'll smell like lavender."

Lavender shrieked with happiness as Parvati kissed her quickly, then the four continued walking. Dean and Seamus laughed at their friends' antics. Dean glanced down at his best friend walking beside him and suddenly felt a twinge in his gut. He felt certain that his amortentia would smell like Seamus.

He supposed he always knew, deep down, that he was in love with Seamus, but it wasn't until the end of last year, when Ginny broke up with him, that he truly realized it. It'd happened simply, without any fanfare or fireworks, one morning in the common room.

They'd just eaten breakfast, although Dean hadn't eaten much. His and Ginny's breakup had been just one week earlier, and he was still upset over it. They were sitting in the window alcove, and Seamus was making jokes in an effort to get Dean to smile. Then he stopped and smiled, running a hand through his hair, made golden in the sunlight. Dean felt his heart jump, and that was that.

He hadn't done anything about it, though. Seamus had a crush on Terry Boot at the time, and Dean didn't have any hopes of his feelings being returned. Even now, in February of their seventh year, he hadn't said anything.

They walked into the potions classroom and took their seats in front of their cauldrons, waiting for Snape to begin the class.

"Wands away," Snape commanded as he swept into the classroom, looking as grumpy and disgruntled as usual. "As I said last week, today we will begin brewing amortentia. I have previously lectured on the dangers of this potion, so I trust we will have no… _incidents_ surrounding its usage." His nostrils flared as he looked around the class.

Dean saw that Ron looked almost green and nudged Seamus. They both snickered, remembering that Ron had accidentally gotten a dose of amortentia and became obsessed with Romilda Vane for a week before Snape finally prepared an antidote. They all suspected that Snape took his sweet time brewing that particular potion.

"I have already prepared the necessary ingredients," Snape said, swishing his wand. The ingredients appeared on their tables. "By the end of today's class, your potion should be a clear, watery substance that emits attractive scents."

"I expect mine'll smell like me mam's chocolate mousse," Seamus said, as he began chopping his wiggentree root. "Nothin' more attractive than that."

Dean laughed, remembering the delicious dessert. He'd tried it a couple years ago when he spent the fifth year winter holidays at Seamus' home.

Two hours later, Dean wiped his brow and looked down at the translucent poition simmering contendedly in his cauldron. The whole classroom was filled with amortentia vapors, which were causing many students to become dizzy. Dean inhaled the scents of drawing ink, his mother's perfume, and Seamus' hair.

"More unicorn hair, Mr. Finnigan," Snape growled as he walked by.

Dean looked over at Seamus' cauldron and stifled a laugh when he saw the opaque concoction bubbling menacingly. Seamus grumbled to himself as he put two more strangs of unicorn hair into the mixture. Sure enough, it cleared up almost instantly.

Snape dismissed them with a few disparaging remarks about their potions, and they left the potions to sit for the next few days.

"That potion sure gets to you, doesn't it?" Lavender bemoaned as she went through the portrait hole. "I still feel lightheaded."

"I dunno what yer talkin' about," Seamus said as he and Dean followed. "I couldn' smell a thing."

"What do you mean?" Parvati asked incredulously. "It was everywhere!"

Seamus shrugged. "Dean must've put too much of his weird Muggle spray stuff on this morning. Couldn't smell anything besides that."

Lavender let out a shrill squeak and stopped in her tracks, Parvati and Dean beside her. Seamus looked at them in confusion. Dean's heart was hammering in his chest.

"What?" Seamus asked.

"Shay, I didn't put on any cologne this morning," Dean said quietly.

"I guess you did smell the amortentia after all," Parvati told him.

Seamus looked quickly between the three of them, his eyes widening as he put the pieces together. His face started to pinch with panic, and his eyes started darting toward the portrait hole. Dean swallowed his fear, his disbelief, and stepped forward, tipping Seamus' head up and kissing him.

The jeers and howls coming from the Gryffindors sounded like they were a thousand miles away. All he could hear was his heart beating in his head, the blood rushing through his veins.

Dean pulled away and smiled down at Seamus, whose whole face was beet red. Without a word, they joined hands and left the common room, feeling they had a whole lot to talk about.


	16. Illegal Murals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batrisakapadiablog: I know this is really cliche and overdone: BUT An Amortentia Deamus fic? Maybe? What about an AU where Dean is a graffiti artist? I LOVE your work, by the way.
> 
> Originally posted Sept 26, 2017, on [tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com/post/165778173251/illegal-murals)

"He did it again," Parvati said, spreading the newspaper over the table, making Seamus and Lavender move their coffee cups.

Seamus leaned over to see the article she was talking about. A photo of a graffiti-ed wall took up a section of the page, with the headline "Graffiti Artist Strikes Again" below it.

"Why do you assume they're a he?" Lavender asked.

"That's fair," Parvati admitted.

"I don't know why they call him - or her, or them - a graffiti artist though," Seamus said, peering at the photo.

Parvati raised her eyebrows. "Hmm, I dunno, maybe because he spray paints walls?"

"Yeah, but he's more like a….an illegal mural painter," Seamus replied.

Lavender began laughing and Seamus' cheeks reddened, but he stood by his statement. The graffiti - mural - in the photo was of a great, huge lion's head that looked as if it were staring into the camera. Its mane was flecked with color, and behind it colors swirled and faded into the tired plaster wall it was painted on.

"He's supremely talented," Seamus said firmly. He stood and grabbed his mug, turning to bus it to the dirty dish bin when someone suddenly collided with him. Seamus stumbled, but the person reached out and grabbed his elbows.

"Oh, terribly sorry," the man said.

Seamus looked up, and then had to look farther up in order to find his face. The man must've been a foot taller than him, with dark curly hair and chocolate eyes.

"N-No problem," Seamus replied. "Me mam says I can trip on nothing. Just glad I didn't drop the mug."

The man looked down at the mug, which was pressed against his chest from the way he'd stopped Seamus from falling. He let go and took a step back.

"Right. That would've been a tragedy," he said with a charming smile. "My name's Dean."

"Seamus." He cleared his throat, conscious of Parvati and Lavender staring with eager expressions. "D'ye, uh, come here often?" He heard them snicker and he blanched. "Sorry, that was corny."

Dean chuckled. "It's alright. No, this is my first time. A friend recommended it."

"Well, I hope to see you around," Seamus said.

"I do too," Dean replied, then smiled at Parvati and Lavender. "Afternoon, ladies," he said, then moved past them to a table in the back corner.

Seamus sank into his chair again, the idea of bussing his mug completely gone from his mind.

"I want to marry that man," Seamus said, eyes fixed on Dean.

The girls barely managed to stifle their squeals of laughter.

HPHPHP

"So, how's it going?" Parvati asked, leaning across the table.

"Is he the man you've been waiting for?" Lavender asked.

"It's only been a month! It's too soon to tell!" Seamus exclaimed.

"But…?" Lavender prompted.

Seamus sighed, resting his chin in one hand. "I really hope he is."

Lavender clapped her hands together, and Parvati grinned widely.

Yes, it had only been a month, but it had been a month of romantic dinners, deep conversations, and a growing personal connection greater than any Seamus had ever previously experienced.

Seamus noticed the newspaper tucked under Parvati's arm. "Anyway, what's our favorite graffiti artist been up to lately?"

She took the newspaper out and laid it on the table. "Just a bunch of small stuff. It's weird, his work used to be huge works of art, but now it's little things. And they seem totally random."

There was a photo spread of the artist's most recent works. They were mostly innocuous - a fox, a firework exploding, a feather on fire - but Seamus felt like they were targeting him. A fox was his favorite animal, he loved fireworks, and he once caught a feather on fire as a kid using a magnifying glass.

These were the early murals, ones that he brushed off as coincidence. But then they became oddly specific, and all were along routes he normally walked. A pride flag was on his walk to work. A coffee mug similar to the one he used was by his gym. And there was an Irish claddagh outside of the post office.

He hadn't told Parvati or Lavender. They would surely tease him for being oversensitive, but he felt like he was being stalked.

They chatted for a while longer, then left the coffee shop to go about their days. Seamus went back to his flat to prepare for a date with Dean. He was fishing his keys out of his pocket when he noticed a bouquet of roses was painted directly outside of his building.

Seamus' heart started pounding. He was being stalked. Some stranger was following him and learning about his life, and he really needed to talk to the police before he got -

"Shay?"

Seamus let out a yelp and clutched his heaving chest. He felt close to passing out. A firm hand squeezed his shoulders, and Seamus looked up at Dean.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Oh, fine," Seamus said sarcastically as he straightened up, "except I'm pretty sure I'm - what've ye got there?"

Dean looked bashful for a moment, then pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind his back. Seamus stared at the roses, then at the graffiti, and back and forth as the pieces clicked together.

"It's ye!" he exclaimed. "Ye're the graffiti artist!"

Dean laughed. "Yeah! I've been trying to show you."

"I thought I had a stalker," Seamus said, lightly punching his arm.

"Not quite," Dean said. "Although I am crazy about you."

Seamus took the roses and laughed, giddy from relief that he didn't have a stalker and from how he felt about Dean.

"Why didn't ye just tell me?" he asked. "Why the song and dance?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, it is illegal. I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. But I knew you liked the murals, as you call them, because I overheard you in the coffee shop the day we met."

"Ye did?"

"I was walking over to talk to you about them when you stood up and we ran into each other," Dean said.

Seamus stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dean, smiling up at him. "Well I love them. And the roses. And you."


End file.
